Who You Belong With
by Cristipotter
Summary: You're on the phone with her. She screams, you're frustrated; and I can't help but wonder what are you doing with her? And why am I still waiting for you? AAML one-shot.


**God, am I really doing this? Am I really publishing fanfiction again? After a two year long writer's block? Well, it seems that I am. **

**I'm undergoing this weird AAML obsession lately. I think it is because I'm about to graduate high school and I'm feeling nostalgic about things I used to like when I was younger. So anyway, my dear friend Claudia got me these weird Pokeshipping ideas in my head, something I hadn't even _considered_ before since I tend to be as thick as Ash Ketchum himself when it comes to hints and stuff. She had to actually point the AAML hints out for me before I could say "Gosh, you're right!" (Rudy, Danny, Nidoran...?! How thick was I?!). And there's also the oh-so-many songs where our dear Misty confesses. **

**But Misty left, and I had to satisfy this AAML need I was suddenly having. So here I am. **

**I wrote this for Claudia, and even though I sometimes blame her for making me obsess over these things, I must say I truly enjoy obsessing over Pokeshipping. And I'm only posting this here because she has been nagging me about it for only the last few weeks. XD**

**This is based on a song by Taylor Swift called "You Belong With Me". Not the deepest song ever, I'm aware of that. But you've got to admit it is sweet. So if you haven't heard it, you can listen to it before, afterwards, or simply not; you'll enjoy this anyway :) by the way... THIS ISN'T A SONG-FIC!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Pokémon, there would be 150 Pokémon with the ocassional Togepi, Merryl and legendary pokémon here and there...and Luvdisc, because those are terribly adorable! Oh, and Misty would still be on the show, and maybe things would be going a bit more seriously and maturely. Since none of this is happening, then no, I don't own Pokémon.**

**On with the story. Reviews are appreciated (hint, hint XD). Enjoy!**

* * *

It's twenty to midnight and you're still talking on the videophone with _her_. I can hear her screaming from the other end while you try to keep your voice down, which results in you hissing and talking in harsh whispers.

I'm lying on the loveseat, my head on my hand, my eyes closing on their own accord. I'm waiting for you to finish your call, just as I have been for the past three hours, just because you asked me to.

"I was training, Dee, what was I supposed to do?!" you ask desperately, trying to make her understand. She just keeps yelling at you, telling you how inconsiderate and immature you are, and how you can never take anything besides Pokémon battles seriously. You groan. She starts complaining about so many other things that are wrong about you.

"That was a _joke_!" you're now saying "Why can't you ever take a joke?"

Because she doesn't get your humor. Not many people do, but you don't know that.

I sit up, so I don't doze off, and place my sleeping Togepi beside your Pikachu. As they cuddle together, I rub my eyes in the dim light of the Pokémon Center. We had arrived there that afternoon, just as soon as we got to the city. We got our Pokémon checked by Nurse Joy, and were ready to start training and helping you get ready for that important battle you have tomorrow when Nurse Joy came and tapped you on the shoulder.

"Ash, you have a call" she had said, gesturing toward one of the many videophone booths on the far end of the Center.

It was _her_. I knew instantly.

"Guys, can you wait for a sec? We'll go train as soon as I get this" you had said. We nodded and sat on the loveseats to wait.

An hour later, Brock gave up and went to sleep. "I don't think we'll be able to train anymore. It's late and the Pokémon are tired. We can do it tomorrow morning… still, Ash's battle is not until nightfall." He had said before leaving. I had agreed with him, but decided to keep waiting for you; maybe you'd hang up soon and we'd be able to train then. "It seems unlikely. As things are going…" Brock gave you a quick glance before turning back around, patting me on the head, and saying "Good night, Misty. See you tomorrow"

"Bye, Brock."

You noticed Brock was missing a few minutes later. She had been rambling about everything you had done to prove that you weren't taking the relationship seriously. You had just shaken your head, and rolled your eyes, and looked away from the screen where her pretty but hysterical face kept complaining.

"Hey, where's Brock?" you asked, ignoring the fuss she was making from the other end. You were leaning back against the chair, your arms crossed over your chest. You looked tired. I was telling you where Brock was, but was interrupted with a loud scream from _her_ "I'm listening!" you told her, turning back to the screen and cutting me off in mid-sentence. I didn't even try to complete it.

Half an hour later, when Nurse Joy turned almost all the lights off and went to sleep, leaving us in a dim light on that vast reception room, you had turned to look at me and said "I'll be done soon. Will you wait for me, Misty? Even if we don't train anymore…" I suppressed a yawn and nodded, as I got comfortable on the loveseat and cuddled Togepi and Pikachu against me. I had known you wouldn't be done soon. But I still waited.

Three hours have now passed. You're still arguing with her, she's still screaming, you're now hissing because you can't talk loudly anymore. It doesn't really make a difference because _her_ voice can still be heard around the whole place, but I can't make out her words.

I never really understood how it had all happened, how you had ended up with _her_.

"C'mon, Dee! Are you really saying that? Are you listening to yourself?"

We had met her in the Grand Festival's final rounds, which were held around the same time as the Pokémon League Preliminaries in the Indigo Plateau. You didn't have a battle that day, so we had decided to go check it out.

We had gotten there just in time to see her win the Ribbon Cup after finishing an Eevee with her beautiful Butterfree. We decided to talk to her and we then learned that she was a Pokémon Coordinator, and her name was Dina. You told her you had once raised a Butterfree yourself, taking care of it since it was a Caterpie. You also didn't forget to mention that I had been completely repulsed by it, and she answered with a cold look that I decided to ignore.

She was really pretty. She was beautiful, in fact, really appropriate for a coordinator. She had long, chocolate-brown hair that she was always decorating with flowers and headbands. She had huge, emerald green eyes. She laughed charmingly and she wore the nicest clothes; skirts, sundresses, high heels, nice sandals, flowery shirts, and everything that almost any girl would die to wear. I had had to pull Brock's ears about five times before he had given up hitting on her.

On the other hand, and to my extreme surprise, _you_ seemed to hit it off really well with her.

"I did it because I _had_ to!" You whisper "I couldn't walk away from it, just like that"

If during the first days we hung out with her someone had come up and told me you'd get together with her one day, I would've laughed my head off.

You groan again, and you bury your face in your iconic red hat.

By the end of the Pokémon League, you were already together with her.

It had been the day you won your last battle and got the Grand Prize. I had been watching from the bleachers with Brock, both of us rooting for you the whole time. You had asked us to let you battle this one on your own, and we had agreed. _She_ had been seating a few rows ahead from us, cheering her head off for you. When you won, I couldn't wait to get to you and congratulate you. I got ahead of Brock, because I had been too excited to wait.

But _she_ had already gotten ahead of _me_.

"You are out of your mind!" you say each syllable slowly through gritted teeth.

I caught you two just as you leaned into each other's faces and kissed. I backed away slowly, so you wouldn't notice me there. I remember my heart aching painfully, and my eyes throbbing out of their sockets. I couldn't cry, Brock was coming, I couldn't let him see me.

He asked for you. I tried to hide my face, and keep my tears inside my eyes. I looked away "He's not here. I don't know…maybe he went back to the PokéCenter?" keeping my voice even was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. We left, supposedly to look for you.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

"Why? _Why_ would I do that?!" you ask. She yells something indecipherable.

It's almost a year now since that day. Almost a year since you told me you had kissed her, the next morning when we went down for breakfast, and I had to pretend to be happy for you. Almost a year since you started asking Brock for advice on _women_, something I never thought I'd see you do. Almost a year of talking on the phone really slowly so you wouldn't wake us up, even though I'm wide awake and listen to you whisper soft words of love I'd have given anything to hear you say to _me_. Almost a year of asking me what girls like for their birthdays, and for Christmas, and for their one-month anniversary. Almost a year of seeing you write endless love-letters I never thought you were even able to conjure up on your own.

I'm dozing off, but I shake my head vigorously to keep myself awake. It's already midnight, the Pidgey-clock on the wall strikes twelve. You don't even notice. I stare longingly at Togepi and Pikachu cuddled up and sleeping peacefully on the other end of the loveseat. I wonder if waiting for you is worth it, or if I should've gone to bed long ago.

It was after just three months of you being with _her_ that I noticed how she just didn't seem to get you. You had different views on Pokémon; you appreciated everything about them while she was highly concerned about their appearance. She pretended to laugh at some of your jokes, while she got mad because of all the others. You had had to apologize to her so many times because of that I had stopped counting after the first three. After a while you just stopped making jokes, and you saved your usual attitude for the times where there was only me or Brock with you. I still laughed, I still got angry at you, we still argued, but something different was happening; you told me more about yourself, and your secrets, and your desires… and useless stuff too, like your favorite songs, and your favorite Pokémon, and your favorite Eevee evolution. I still listened, I didn't care how pointless it was, I wanted to know. But I couldn't help but wonder, why were you telling _me_ all this things instead of _her_?

Because it was easy.

"God, Dee, she's just a _friend!_" you forget about keeping your voice down. I feel my drowsiness slipping away, and not only because I'm afraid Nurse Joy will come down and kick us out of the Pokémon Center, but because I know who you're talking about "how many times do I have to tell you that?!"

She had never liked me very much, ever since you had told her I had been repulsed by your Caterpie all those years ago. When she was around, she preferred to ignore my existence, and after a few failed attempts to become friendly with her –after all, she was _your_ girlfriend –I had decided to ignore her back. Brock and I preferred to hang out with each other when she was around, and keep our distance. I still got poignant, cold looks from her from time to time, though, like when you said something positive about me, or had any kind of physical contact with me, or even when you _mentioned_ my name. In the end, I stopped caring. In the end, I was the one beside you in your toughest times, not _her_. In the end, I was the one you complained to about how _she_ doesn't understand you. In the end, _I _was your best friend.

"Well, of course she's here, she's always here. Where else would she be?" you say, and I look attentively at you. Her screams go down, although I can still hear her talk heatedly at you. She doesn't want me to hear, I know that "No, I won't do that!" you put your hat back on and you lean in closer to the screen, so your face is hidden from my view "because she's my friend!" you hiss.

I can see your face again; you look tired and frustrated. I almost feel like walking to you and thank you for always standing up for me, and not only against _her_, and tell you how amazing I really think you are.

Because in spite of all the nasty things she keeps yelling at you, I still think you're an amazing friend. You're one of the greatest people I've ever known, and I'm sure that when people try to see the _real _you, they understand you. They understand that your pathetic stubbornness is really your fight for what you want, doing anything you can to get it. They understand that your immaturity is just your way to hide how much you care for the ones you love, and that you sacrifice anything for them; for your friends, for your Pokémon, for your mother. They understand you, just like I do.

I want to ask you what you are doing with a girl like _her_. Someone that doesn't appreciate anything about you, and sees all the little things that make you special as your most horrible defects. Who throws every little mistake you make right at your face, because it is never enough, it is never right for her.

But I sit rooted on my spot, not wanting to cause you any more trouble.

I wonder if you love her so much that you're willing to go through all of that just for her.

"You know what, Dee, I'm tired. I can't have this conversation anymore right now…" you say coldly and stand up. I instantly straighten up in the loveseat, hopeful that you'll be finally done. She screams something again, and I can't understand it. You tense up and say "well, then we won't have this conversation anymore! Fine by me!"

You stand in front of the videophone, looking down at her. I can see her motioning quickly from the distance as she yells at you.

"_It's either _me_ or _her_!_" I hear her say clearly from the other end, one of the only coherent phrases I've understood from the whole conversation. Everything else just seemed to be incessant complaining, and rambling, and screaming. I feel a pang inside of me, and my heart threatens to hammer its way out of my chest, and the worst part of all is that I doubt what your choice will be.

You glance at me in the dim lights, but look away quickly as our eyes meet. You realize that I'm listening, so I pretend to be thinking about something different and look in the opposite direction. I feel my eyes sting.

"I can't _believe_ you're saying that" you sound grave. She yells some more "Don't you _trust_ me? You _never_ trust me!"

She's still yelling. You sigh, and look up, as if you were asking the heavens for advice. You bury your face in your hands and through a muffled voice you cut her ramblings "Dee, Dee, Dina…" she becomes quiet. I stiffen and catch my breath.

We experience the first silent moment in three and a half hours. I don't dare to look away from the closed entrance to the Pokémon Center, completely opposite of you, afraid you might decipher my fear of losing you.

I don't know what to think anymore, and I can't tell what your next step will be. I don't know if you'll even take a next step, and instead you'll walk away from the screen towards the exit while she keeps yelling at you until she's out of earshot, leaving the whole problem unresolved. I don't know if you'll assure her that you'll stop seeing me because you love her too much to let her go because of _just a friend._ I don't even know why I'm still here waiting.

I should have gone to bed long ago.

A tear escapes my eye and runs down my cheek. I wipe it before it gets too far.

"I'm sorry" you say softly. I finally look at you, asking myself who you had directed those last words to. You are staring down at the screen, still on your feet, your hands inside your pockets "I can't do it. You can't ask me to do it, it's not right."

She mumbles something inaudible for me.

"Wait –"

It's too late because she has hung up. After so many hours of arguing for so long, the conversation was finally over. You're now standing in near-darkness, still as a statue with your head hanging low.

I stand up and walk over to you. As I get closer I can see your eyes are wet, but your face is unreadable. Your eyes are lost, staring off into the distance.

"What happened?" I ask quietly. I stop a few paces from you and I stare at you right across from me.

"You guess" You snap. You're angry, and I can understand it. Instead of starting a usual fight with you, I press my lips together and nod without saying another word. I understand if the last person you want to be with right now is me; you being unwilling to make me leave your side is what has gotten her too angry to stand it. I start turning around in the direction of the loveseat where Togepi sleeps to pick him up and go to bed. I should've gone hours ago, and I still can't understand why I didn't.

I should've gone long ago; that's what she would've wanted. That's what would've made you happy.

"Misty, wait" I hear your voice, and I turn back around. I'm tired and sleepy "I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean… you… I was just angry."

"I understand" I say "but, you know, I would've gone away if that's what would've made you happy. You didn't have to stand up for me this time. I think I can understand how much of a threat I seemed like to her."

You frown, and your face of utter disbelief makes my heart skip a beat. You shake your head "Misty, what are you talking about?! She was asking me to leave you behind, to stop being your friend! I thought you knew me better than that."

I gulp and keep quiet. I can't meet your eyes, so I look down to the carpet with the little Chanceys and Blisseys printed on it.

"I never leave my friends behind. You should know that by now."

I look up and I find you grinning slightly. My heart is racing inside my own chest, and even though I'd hate to admit it, a happy feeling starts bubbling up to my throat and taking over my head. I let out a chuckle, and with a few strides you close the gap between us and take me in your arms.

It was once again one of those things about you that made you special, one of those amazing traits she hated you having. The reason she broke up with you happened to be one of the most beautiful things you owned and what people admired you for, more than anything else; more than your handsome face, or your great battling skills, or all those badges and cups you've won.

I finally know why I waited for so long, sitting on the loveseat and dozing off a thousand times, wanting to cuddle up with Pikachu and Togepi and sleep forever. Because being your friend is worth it.

We're holding each other tightly under the dim lights, my arms are around your neck and your hand keeps running up and down my back. I feel chills being sent to every inch of my body and all I can do is say "Thank you", and put all the gratitude I could muster up inside those two simple words.

**Epilogue.**

You had asked us to be right behind you this time around.

"I need my friends now, more than ever" you had said.

So here we are, watching you battle, supporting you, and giving you advice from the bench behind the platform you're standing on.

"Ash, are you crazy?!" I scream, way more loudly than necessary "You dumbass, call Bulbasaur back, you'll get him hurt if you make him fight any longer!"

"Don't you think I know that?!" you yell back.

"Well, doesn't seem like it!" I now find myself standing on top of the bench as Brock sweatdrops and tries to bring me to sit back down. I ignore him "now start using that over-grown head of yours and take a chance with Pikachu!"

"Well, I _could've_ started before if it wasn't for that over-sized mouth of yours…"

"Guys, guys, GUYS!" Brock interrupts "This _really_ isn't the moment!"

I cross my arms across my chest and scowl. I think I resemble the same Misty from seven years ago. You stare at me for a moment, and I'm surprised to see a slight grin on your face instead of a scowl that could've matched mine.

"Pikachu, I choose you!"

I smile.

"_Pidgeot can't fight anymore, Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town is the winner of this battle!_"

"YES!" I scream.

Pikachu runs into your arms as the stadium starts cheering. You catch him in mid-air and spin around while you hold your beloved Pokémon in your arms. I see you smile so brightly, something I hadn't seen you do in way too long.

The platform you're standing on starts lowering after a while, and I stand up and run to you, getting ahead of Brock to congratulate you.

There was no one to get ahead of _me_ this time.

You jump down off the platform and run to me with your arms extended. I jump into them and my feet leave the ground as we sway. You place me back down and I was about to say how proud I was of you but you do something completely and utterly unexpected.

The cheers from around us seemed to fade into a buzz, a long distance away. It only lasts for a second, but it seems like a long, happy eternity. The eternity in which your lips touched mine for the first time, and in which I had been so paralyzed by surprise that I hadn't even been able to kiss back.

We brake apart as quick as it had happened. I'm still in your arms, and you look as surprised as I felt. Your brown eyes are staring at me in ultimate disbelief, as if you couldn't process what had just happened, as if you couldn't believe it had even happened. We're both breathing heavily, ignorant of what is exactly going on around us besides cheering and celebrating.

And without thinking, without understanding, and without caring what _others_ would think –they could think anything they wanted, and I couldn't care less –I pull your face back to mine from your collar and kiss you. I feel my chest burst with excitement when you kiss me back, as if nothing in the world could be more thrilling.

I now know why I waited for so long.

Seven whole years were worth the wait.

Seven years of non-stopping bickering, of she-said, he-said, of stupid arguments about bikes, and bug Pokémon, and who the baby really was. Seven years of getting lost in a different forest at least once a week and blaming each other, of fighting over the most pointless things in the world, of driving Brock bonkers every day or so, of making fun of Team Rocket's weirdest antics. Seven years of pushing, and supporting, and advising, and listening. Seven years of caring, of worrying, of wondering, and loving.

Seven years since I pulled you out of a river and you…

I pull back suddenly.

"You still owe me a bike, Ash Ketchum!"

* * *

**LE FIN.**

**Hope you all guys enjoyed this!**


End file.
